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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28085574">Slip It In</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/trepidatingboarfetus/pseuds/trepidatingboarfetus'>trepidatingboarfetus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Grand Theft Auto Series (Video Games), Grand Theft Auto V</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Catholic guilt again, M/M, Porn with Feelings, and Trevor would say he's REPRESSED, because Michael is always wrestling with his demons, bittersweet angst, for the Bottom Michael Cult</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:22:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>896</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28085574</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/trepidatingboarfetus/pseuds/trepidatingboarfetus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You say you don’t want it<br/>You don’t want it<br/>Say you don’t want it<br/>But then you slip it on in</p><p>The B Side to From The Hips</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michael De Santa/Trevor Philips</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Slip It In</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Oh. My. God. I totally took this song in a different direction, but parts of it really spoke to me and became...whatever this is. My apologies, it wrote itself. That’s just how it works for me. </p><p>This isn’t the only one I have planned either. This just popped out and wouldn’t go back in. I said I was writing a ton of gifts on Discord, so uhhhhh, first of many? Obviously, this is Not Safe For Anyone. Again. This is like Michael’s B side to Trevor’s A side of From The Hips. </p><p>The little song that Michael is thinking of is a traditional song/hymn? called Tell Me Why, but it’s been covered by so many people. Slip It In is by Black Flag.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> You’re loose </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Put your brain in a noose </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The next day you regret it </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But you’re still loose </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You say you didn’t think </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You said you had too much to drink </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Is it in the chemical? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Or is it just some part of you? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You regret how you felt  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You felt it </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You decided to be all loose </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It’s what you choose </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You say you don’t want it </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You don’t want it </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Say you don’t want it </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But then you slip it on in </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Every time they meet like this, he wonders just how much closer this brings him to the gates of Hell because, in his own mind, this is so much worse than his now-former chosen path of employment. This is the kind of thing the priest used to drone on about when he was a boy, but it’s been so long since he stepped foot in a church or went to confession that maybe it doesn’t even matter at this point. He’s pretty Hellbound by now, he figures. </p><p>Their bodies intertwine as easily as ivy on old homes, and it reminds him of a song from his youth: <em> tell me why the ivy twines</em>. He definitely sees the stars shining in Trevor’s eyes when he looks up into them as he relaxes every last part of himself and cedes his so carefully built barriers, allowing Trevor to slip inside for comfort. After all of this time, he still wants to lie to himself and say that this is a thing he does purely for Trevor because he’s always needed affection in a different way, but he’s never been able to fully charm himself as he does others.</p><p>It’s not just commiseration for Trevor, it’s something he needs too, but it doesn’t matter how much he tries to turn his brain off from the emotions and just focus on the pleasure, he can’t. So they console each other like this, and then Michael goes to imaginary confession in his mind afterward because he has to find a way to repent his sins even if he’s not even completely sure that this <em> is </em> a sin. </p><p>Is love a sin?</p><p>He wants to enjoy this. God, unfortunately, knows that his dick is <em> definitely </em> savoring every angled thrust Trevor delivers even if his heart and mind are fighting a battle of wills right now, just as always. </p><p>When they were younger, he could get lost in the feelings and not care because they were usually too busy being drunk off their asses to notice anything beyond how great it felt to be close to someone, to slip them in like a missing puzzle piece, to come down together, roughened sweat-slicked hand in hand, from that adrenaline rush that committing larceny gave them. </p><p>Even now, he wants to pretend that this is all just one too many shots of whiskey and reminiscing, so when Trevor paws at his shirt and latches onto his belt, he sobers quickly and pushes him off slightly, but he can <em> certainly </em> shove harder if he wants to...he just can’t find a reason to do so. It’s the same thrills as back then. He’s always loved finding the lights sparkling in Trevor’s wild eyes just as much as Trevor aches for the skies within his blue irises. </p><p>He wants to blame the alcohol, but he’s kidding himself. This deviating desire is something that’s been a part of him since before he met the man currently fucking him with wild abandon; it’s just something he could ignore without much effort until the day he stumbled into Trevor’s hanger, twisting them together forever. Much like the ivy from the song. </p><p>Trevor mumbles something in French, knowing just how much of a damn undoing that is to his soul, fucking smug bastard that he is, and then tangles their tongues together just as Michael has done their lives, delving deep as if Michael holds the key within his mouth that will cure every piece of Trevor’s shattered existence. </p><p>And maybe he <em> does </em> hold that key. He knows what the other man wants, has <em> always </em> wanted, for so many patient years including the ones he mourned like a widow, and Michael realizes that in many ways, he <em> was </em> one. </p><p>He hates himself even more. Maybe that’s part of the reason he does this to himself, to them. It’s the punishment he gives to himself for being so flawed, and he pays the penance to Trevor who’s never asked for much except to be loved in return. </p><p>Something he’s not sure he can ever give him. </p><p>So they are destined to meet in motels, trailer parks, empty mansions, managerial offices, forgotten beaches -- wherever they can find a moment in time to come together in this frenzied fucking of unbridled lust and half-filled emotions; sometimes meeting in the interlude of their misspent youth, sometimes meeting as lovers that time has misplaced, only recently reunited. And he regrets it every time he begs for it, but he finally understands just how much he needs this face above his, eyes twinkling brighter than the night sky, and it is in them where they can touch one another, where he can feel safe enough to shed his skin like a snake and slip into the one Trevor holds out for him, waiting and willing to fill him in ways nothing else can.</p>
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